


Unfinished Selves

by sebfish



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Career Ending Injuries, M/M, Past Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebfish/pseuds/sebfish
Summary: Jack Zimmermann looks guilty from his spot on the couch. His knee is in a brace, leg propped up, and he looks rather the worse for wear since the last time Kent saw him.Kent hates the fact that he feels better than he has in months, seeing him, the tug in his chest flaring warm with contentment.He feels tired, suddenly, because he knows how this is going to go, because this is how it always goes: they’ll make nice for a little bit because they’re adults, and then Jack will remember that he hates Kent.





	Unfinished Selves

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Characters/Pairings: pimms  
> Prompt Details: one of them gets a career ending injury, needs time apart to cope and separate himself from the hockey world  
> Additional Info: major bonus points if a soulmate au  
> Squicks: non-con  
> Maximum Rating: M
> 
> This prompt got away from me a little bit but I think I did it justice, at any rate I really enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Thank you to afterthefair and that-thing-you-roo (Decibelle) for betaing, their help was invaluable and this story would be a lot messier without them. 
> 
> Title from Richard Siken's Birds Hover the Trampled Field. 
> 
> Check Please and all characters belong to Ngozi, I own nothing but my OC who makes a brief appearance.

 

_“Take a body, maybe_

_your own, and dump it gently. All your dead,_

_unfinished selves and dump them gently._

_[…]                              Never finish a war without_

_starting another. I’ve seen your true face: the back_

_of your head. If you were walking away, keep walking.”_

— _Birds Hover the Trampled Field by Richard Siken_

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

There’s been rumors about Kent Parson’s soul mate since he was a rookie.

He could shut them down, probably, but that would require more truth than he’s willing to give and it’s easier to just deflect any soul mate adjacent questions and direct it back towards hockey.

He’s the darling of the media in the Aces’ corner of the hockey world, anyway, so they’re usually pretty polite.

The internet and some of the more tabloid-y sites have their own ideas, and it’s the best part of Kent’s day to find out which teammate the internet thinks he’s soul mates with.

Nathan Troy has started rolling his eyes and sighing whenever Kent starts reading posts and speculation, because while he may have the patience of a saint and be used to Kent’s antics, he’s also Not Interested in shenanigans. He’s secretly an eighty year old man who likes cardigans and fishing shows.

He’s a good bro though, so Kent keeps him around. He’s also Kent’s A, along with Dan Jefferson, because they’re both the kind of steady responsible people that end up picking up the slack more often than not because Kent’s a pretty good captain on the ice but he’s also kind of a mess off it.

He’s not proud of it, but it’s what it is.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The shittiest thing about it is that it wasn’t even a bad hit.

It was the kind of hit you saw dozens of every game, clean shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the ice. Some guys were good at bracing themselves so the hit merely glanced off, some were knocked off their feet, but most of the time they were able to shake themselves off and keep going.

Kent barely caught it on the TV, walking back into his front room where half of his team was gathered, just a glimpse of two players colliding and one skidding off onto the ice.

The instant Kent felt pain tear through his knee, he knew who it was.

“Shit, Zimmermann is down,” he vaguely heard one of the rookies say as he took a moment to breathe through it before focusing on moving back to the couch and dropping down.

He caught a worried look from Troy, shrugged in response and went back to drinking his beer, ignoring the echoes of pain through his knee.

Most of the Aces knew he had a soul mate, but only Troy and a handful of others knew who. The front office knew, of course, because that was their business, but it wasn’t like it was that important.

It wasn’t like Jack Zimmermann even talked to him, anymore.

All it left him with was an ache in his chest tugging in the direction of wherever Jack was, and the occasional throb of shared pain whenever he got hurt. Soul mate pain was weird, a phantom echo that overlaid the sense of his body saying that it was fine, thanks, that felt more real if he focused on it and less real if he ignored it.

You could feel emotions, too, but Jack had learned to shut that down pretty quickly so the only thing Kent ever got was the occasional flicker of something when he was tired or surprised enough to not be on his guard.

On the TV, Jack was being helped up off the ice, able to walk on his own but not putting any weight on his leg. The game started back up, and the rookies’ concerned chatter turned back into normal game watching chatter.

 

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Some bonding night, Kent thinks. Two days off in the middle of a stretch of home games and he’d thought it would be fun to have the rookies over, watch some hockey that wasn’t just game tape.

Troy keeps shooting him concerned looks, so he finally gets back up during a commercial break and heads to the kitchen, grabbing the empty chip bowls and trusting that Troy will follow.

He does, and Kent would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so touched by it.

“So,” Troy says, “Zimmermann took a pretty bad fall.” He leans against the countertop as Kent busies himself opening extra bags of chips and dumping them in the bowls.

“It was his knee,” Kent replies. “Feels pretty bad, but it’s hard to say.”

“Shit.”

“Pretty much.” He puts an empty bag down and leans on the countertop.

“Hey,” Troy says, softer. “We’ve got your back, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Kent says. He huffs out a breath. “I hate that I’m not going to know anything until the media knows, you know?”

“We’ve got your back,” Troy says again. He claps Kent on the shoulder, then grabs one of the bowl of chips. Kent grabs the other one and follows him back into the living room, smiles when Troy chirps one of the rookies.

He can almost ignore the distant throb of his knee, like this.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

It’s actually sooner than he expects before he hears anything, because Alicia Zimmermann texts him shortly after Troy and the rookies all leave and he flops on the couch to check out what the internet’s saying.

_Jack’s going to be evaluated but it doesn’t look good, might need surgery. Sending our love, take care of yourself._

_Thanks for letting me know_ , he texts back.

The Zimmermanns had known almost longer than he and Jack did, and even after everything had fallen apart, they’d still kept in touch.

 _Jack just needs time_ , Bob had said, _he’ll figure things out_.

 _Soulmates don’t just happen_ , Alicia had added, _you’ll work it out_.

But Jack hadn’t wanted to work it out, barely even wanted to talk to him. Then he’d gone to school, and things had gotten a little better, and then Kent had fucked it all up again.

Jack texts him, once in a long while, but nothing more.

It’s the same even now, years after Jack had made it to the big leagues, after he won a Cup of his own. They’re amicable enough to the public eye, but that’s easy enough to fake.

Jack has a boyfriend now, anyway, the kind of cute little blond who would be unremarkable if he wasn’t male and somebody who was one of Jack’s teammates back at college.

He checks out Twitter, briefly, scans through the media speculation about Jack’s injury. Nothing’s been confirmed but that doesn’t stop people from speculating, as usual.

Kit shows up then, lured out by the fact that it’s quiet, finally. She jumps up to his stomach and settles herself down into a fluffy white puddle. He sinks a hand into her fur, starts stroking her softly as she purrs.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The first time he saw Jack Zimmermann, he didn’t think _oh, that’s my soulmate_.

He thought _that’s the kid everyone’s been talking about_ and any pull he’d felt then could’ve been explained away by the fact that he was excited to meet Jack.

Jack had said that he hadn’t recognized the pull for what it was until months later, when they’d both settled into the routine of school and practice and games and become fast friends because Kent had been enamored by the shy kid who tore up the ice like he had something to prove.

Jack had been quiet and awkward then, still growing into his face and his frame, and Kent had wanted to keep him in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.

It’d been too easy, in retrospect, the way Kent felt quiet and content whenever Jack was near.

He doesn’t really remember when they figured out that they were soulmates, just that at some point they knew and that was enough and Jack had kissed him for the first time when they were sixteen and felt like they could do anything.

He would’ve done anything for Jack, even to the point of giving up hockey, and maybe he wanted too much because all he got in the end was Jack on the bathroom floor and the pull vanishing for one brief, terrifying moment.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

 _Heads up, you’ve got incoming_.

Bob’s text is dated several hours earlier, before the game. He’s finally done with his post-game media scrum, takes a minute to check his phone before he strips off and goes to shower.

 _Thx_ , Kent responds, wondering what he means. It’s been a few months since Jack Zimmermann got hurt, the media buzzing about what it means and how soon he’ll be back. It’s almost February now, and Bob and Alicia have been keeping him updated, mostly, but there’s still been a definite radio silence from the one person he wants to hear from most.

The throb of soulmate pain in his knee has settled down into a twinge that hasn’t entirely gone away, and he thinks that says more than anything else. He doesn’t even notice it unless he’s thinking about it, for the most part. 

“Hey Parser,” he hears, and gets a face full of sweaty under armor. He splutters and ducks away from it and sees Jacobs grinning widely at him. Alex Jacobs is a year older than him and kind of a dick, but he’d adopted Kent as a rookie and doesn’t have any respect for the fact that Kent is technically his captain now.

“Go shower,” Kent says, throwing the shirt back. “You’re gross.”

“You’re fucking gross,” Jacobs snorts, dropping his shirt in his stall and heading off to the shower.

Kent checks his phone again, glances up to see Jefferson watching him. Jeff is a good guy, even if he has a tendency to be kind of a mother hen.

“Everything good?” Jeff asks, tone neutral.

Kent shrugs. “Good enough.”

Jeff nods but doesn’t press, and Kent puts his phone down and heads off to shower.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent feels twitchy the next day like his skin doesn’t fit right, is distracted all through morning practice to the point that he just nods along with whatever Troy and Jeff are saying and lets them lead. Troy shoots him concerned looks in the locker room after, until Kent gives in and sits next to him, bumping his shoulder companionably.

“You joining us?” Troy asks, nodding towards the group of rookies who are loudly discussing lunch plans and debating the merits of fajitas versus tacos.

Any other day Kent would be happy to join them, but he just feels tired.

“Might skip today, if you guys are okay without me.”

Troy claps him on the shoulder. “Go home and cuddle your cat, Parser, we’ve got this.”

He smiles, relieved. “Thanks, bro.”

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

He has vague plans to go home, microwave something, and collapse on his couch to watch Chopped reruns for a few hours, but that’s thrown out the window when he actually gets home.

“What the fuck,” he says, feeling more than a little off kilter.

Jack fucking Zimmermann looks guilty from his spot on the couch. His knee is in a brace, leg propped up, and he looks rather the worse for wear since the last time Kent saw him.

Kent hates the fact that he feels better than he has in months, seeing him, the tug in his chest flaring warm with contentment.

He feels tired, suddenly, because he knows how this is going to go, because this is how it always goes: they’ll make nice for a little bit because they’re fucking adults, and then Jack will remember that he hates Kent.

Different day, different chapter, but it’s always the same fucking story, in the end.

“Sorry,” Jack says, “I should’ve called first, but I needed to get away.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kent says, and escapes to his bedroom so that he can finally take an actual shower instead of the rinse off after practice and try to make some sense of the mess.

He feels slightly more settled after showering and getting dressed, because showering at the rink may be fine enough for most of the guys but he always feels better when he can shower in his own shower.

Jack is still where he left him, if slightly more relaxed into the couch like he’s contemplating taking a nap. He’s doing something on his phone, but he sets it aside when Kent enters the room.

Kent drops onto the other side of the sectional, leaving more than enough space between them.

“Hey Kenny,” Jack says.

“Hey Zimms,” he replies, feeling tired.

Jack looks soft and a little fond, and Kent can’t fucking deal with that.

“Why are you here?” Kent asks, because that’s safe, at least, and he’s trying to be a fucking adult.

Jack looks down at his lap, shifty, and it’s been a few years but Kent can still read every one of his tells.

“Everyone’s worried about me,” he says. “I needed a break.”

 _No shit_ , Kent thinks but doesn’t say out loud. But he gave Alicia Zimmermann a key to his place for emergencies, and if she’s decided that this counts he’s not going to turn Jack away.

“Okay,” he says instead. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Mi casa es su casa and all that.”

The joke falls flat, probably, but Jack looks relieved and that’s enough for Kent.

“Okay,” Kent says again, taking a breath. “What do you want for lunch?”

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Lunch ends up being two plates of reheated chicken and rice because Jack had shrugged when Kent asked him what he wanted and Kent didn’t have enough energy to bother actually making something. He’s got a cooking service that brings him frozen meals every week, but he’s learned how to cook a few things because he’s trying to be a good example for the rookies.

Kent finishes his food before Jack does, watches him pick at his rice, slowly, and push the vegetables around without really eating any. Jack’s always been a picky eater, even if he pretends he isn’t.

He doesn’t seem inclined to talk much while they’re eating so Kent clears away the plates in silence and then flops back onto the couch and turns on the TV. Jack shrugs when he asks what he wants to watch, so he goes back to his original plan to turn on Chopped.

They make it through a few episodes before he realizes that Jack’s slumped into the couch cushions, fast asleep. He looks so young like that, like he did before everything got screwed up, and it makes Kent’s heart hurt.

He turns off the TV and grabs a blanket from the end of the couch, drapes it carefully over Jack because it’s fairly cool inside from the AC even if it’s warm outside, and tiptoes away.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Jack moves in to one of Kent’s guest bedrooms and it’s easier than Kent would’ve expected to live with him. Maybe it’s because they’re both on their best behavior, but it’s easy.

Kent is busy for the most part, practices and games and media stuff. They’re winning more than they’re losing at this point and there’s talk about them being strong contenders for the Cup this year. Kent doesn’t want to jinx himself, but they’ve got a good team and he’s been on a points streak for the last few weeks.

He doesn’t see Jack too much, but the times they do see each other are weirdly okay.

Jack spends the first week hanging out at Kent’s house before he caves and finds a local physical therapist because he still needs to work on rehabbing his knee. Kent’s pretty sure that Alicia had something to do with that, since she’d started sending Kent texts that obliquely asked if he knew about any good local physical therapists.

Jack still hasn’t told Kent much, but Kent knows that the Falconers have him on LTIR and it’s pretty obvious at this point that he’s probably going to be out for the rest of the season.

Jack calls his family and friends and probably his boyfriend sometimes, as much as Kent can tell, but doesn’t ever say anything about going home.

It’s weird, more than anything, to see him like this, because if it was Kent he’d be going stir crazy after a week in, but Jack seems weirdly content to hang out on Kent’s couch and watch TV or mess around on his computer.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

He never actually tells anyone that Jack is visiting, but his team are a bunch of busybodies and find out anyway after Troy comes over on a day off, ostensibly to visit Kent but more likely because Kent usually had food and Troy is terrible at remembering to go grocery shopping.

Jack is on his laptop on the couch, as usual, because he pretty much lives there now. Kit is a furry bundle next to him because she’s a traitor who decided that she like Jack better and has spent most of her time hanging out with him instead of Kent. Troy greets him as they walk through and gets a distracted wave in response.

Troy, being a good bro, does not say anything until he’s followed Kent into the kitchen and been offered a drink, after which he gives Kent a very pointed look.

Kent ignores him and grabs several portions of frozen casserole out of the freezer to heat up.

“So,” Troy says casually, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“So what?” Kent says back, trying to decide whether it would be worth it to heat up the casserole in the oven instead.

“Jack Zimmermann’s in your living room, eh?”

Kent decides it’s not worth the wait and dumps the frozen blocks in a microwave-safe container instead.

“Yeah,” he says breezily. “He’s visiting.” The container goes into the microwave.

Troy raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Kent says, watching the container spin slowly in the microwave.

“I didn’t say anything,” Troy responds, smirking and taking a sip of his water. “I’m just glad you have friends, Parse.”

“Ugh.” Kent hates his friends some times.

Jack emerges then, drawn by the sound of the microwave and saving Kent from further inquiry. The look on Troy’s face says that he’ll be asking about it later, but he’s willing to drop it for now.

“Lunch?” Jack asks, hopefully.

“Almost ready,” Kent says, and he knows everything he feels about Jack is probably written on his face for Troy to read, but it’s hard to care because Jack’s here and that’s more than Kent ever expected.  

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

So the thing is, it’s been years since Kent was the dumbass kid who was stupid enough to show up at Jack’s college team’s party and try to convince him to come to Vegas. That still ranks as one of the stupidest things he’s ever done and one of the worst days of his life.

He doesn’t really regret it, though.

Up until then, he’d still thought of them as _Parse &Zimms_, figured that no matter what they’d figure out a way to play and be together. They were soulmates, after all, and that meant that things would always work out, happily ever after, fuck the NHL and anyone who says otherwise.

He’d thought that if he tried hard enough, he could get Jack back.

It was fucking stupid, in hindsight, to promise shit he could never deliver on to get Jack back, to think that there was something he could do to make Jack love him.

It was really fucking stupid because the reality was that Jack didn’t love him, had maybe never loved him, and the sooner Kent learned that the sooner he could learn to live without him.

Soulmates can be platonic, and maybe the truth is that they could’ve been great together on the ice, but they fucked it up because they were scared kids who held on to each other so tightly that they hurt each other, and it took years for Kent to realize that they didn’t have to.

Except for the weird hiccup of Jack moving in with him, they’ve been mostly avoiding each other for the past few years and even if it’s not what Kent would prefer, he knows that it’s probably better.

Jack has a boyfriend back home, anyway. Kent’s only met him a few times, but he’s seen the way Jack looks at his boyfriend and, well, Kent couldn’t compete with that, even if he thought Jack cared about him that way.

Kent’s doing okay, mostly, and if Jack’s now decided that he wants to be friends again, Kent can live with that.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The end of the season comes faster than Kent expected, even though it always does. They’re sitting pretty at the top of the Western Conference, firmly ensconced in a playoff spot, and that’s a huge fucking relief. It’s not a guarantee of anything but it’s a definite relief to know that they’re doing well enough that even if they lose the rest of the season they’re still okay.

 The Falconers don’t do as well with Jack and a few others out with injuries so it’s less of a surprise than it should be when Jack announces that he’s going to be flying back for a week for the last game and locker cleanout.

Honestly, Kent’s pretty sure they probably wanted him back sooner but it wasn’t like Jack could’ve done much. His knee is getting better by degrees but he’s not even at the point where he can skate yet. It’s probably going to be summer before that happens and the season will be well over by then.

Kent leaves for three games on the road, picks up two goals and three assists, and feels pretty good about himself. They’re home for the last two games and that’s a relief, even if the house is weirdly quiet when Kent gets back, Jack already gone.

Even with Jack visiting, Kent is gone often enough on roadies that the pull of being away from Jack feels almost normal, but it’s weird to be home and not feel it settle out into the contentment of being close to Jack.

It’s more of a relief than Kent expected to see that Jack’s stuff is still all there in his room, because he’d implied that he’d come back but hadn’t said anything certain.

They win their last game of the season, and even though playoffs are coming, it’s a good feeling to skate around after the end of the game and listen to the fans cheering.

Playoffs are coming and that’ll be a different beast, but right now under the bright lights he feels like he could do anything.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The next day the Falconers have their last game against Boston and it’s not bad, per se, but they’re definitely struggling. Kent inadvertently hosts a viewing party because Troy and Jeff show up at his house thirty minutes before the game starts with a gaggle of rookies in tow, but he can’t say he minds much. He hasn’t been hosting as much with Jack over and if Troy and Jeff have noticed they haven’t said anything but it’s still probably been his turn for a while now.

It’s not that the rookies haven’t visited, but most of them were still in awe of Jack enough to be slightly more hesitant about dropping by. Jack has been pretty friendly to anyone who did, but Kent doesn’t really blame them.

It’s nice, actually, to have his teammates around. Jeff raids the kitchen for snacks and the rookies squabble about who has to sit on the floor and compromise by piling on each other like a bunch of puppies.

Kent gets his usual spot by virtue of being the captain and Jeff and Troy drop down on either side of him.

The game starts and the rookies get into it, and it’s a good reminder to have his team around.

Not all of these guys will be here next year, but the team wants him for as long as he’s willing to stay, and that’s something to hold on to.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Jack comes back late a few days later, the noise of the door being unlocked Kent’s only warning. Kent doesn’t bother to get up from the couch because the only people who have keys are Jack or his teammates, and either of them have permission to come in whenever they want anyway.

Jack looks good, tired but more cheerful than Kent’s seen him. It’s a relief to have him back, to feel the tug in his chest settle back into warm contentment.

“Missed me?” he says, joking, and Kent snorts.

“Kit did, probably.” She’s currently meowing and twining herself around Jack’s feet, so it’s probably true.

Jack scoops her up and grins, pressing his face against her fur. She purrs loudly, because she likes Jack better.

“Did you eat?” Kent asks, stretching slightly.

Jack seems distracted but he shrugs. “I had dinner during the layover at Dallas, I might get something later.”

“Okay,” Kent responds, feeling sleepy. “There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want.”

“Sounds good, I might go change.” Jack drops Kit onto the empty end of the couch, and she takes the opportunity to walk along Kent’s legs so she can settle into a ball of fluff on his stomach. Kent drops a hand on her head to rub lazily behind her ear, and Jack’s got a soft look on his face that Kent’s too tired to decipher.

He catches Kent’s eye and smiles, then exits to go do whatever it is he does after flying. Unpack, maybe.

Kent hears the shower running as he drifts off, lulled by Kit’s purring.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The playoffs hit them hard, and they hit back harder. Enough of the main core have been through the playoffs before that it’s not as terrible as it could be, even if the rookies look a little bit green with nerves.

They beat San Jose in five games, and that’s a good feeling. They lose Jacobs to a sprained ankle, and it’s not ideal but they’ll manage.

Kent doesn’t see Jack much, even though he’s pretty sure Jack’s been watching the games at home.

They push Seattle to seven games and manage to win, but it’s close and Kent feels more exhausted than he can ever remember. They lose another defenseman and a forward and it’s not great, but they can still pull through.

There’s fresh baked cookies in the kitchen when he gets home late from the game, and Jack just shrugs and says that he learned from a friend.

A few days later, the Aces go up against the Aeros and it’s…not good. Their defense keeps falling to pieces and even switching goalies isn’t enough to keep them from getting shelled.

They lose the next game in overtime and it’s better than the first but still not good, and Kent’s starting to get a nagging feeling that this is gonna be it.

They lose the third game 2-1 and it’s not the end yet, but the dressing room is quiet and nobody looks like they believe it.

They lose the fourth game and that’s it, season over.

There’s a pie cooling on the counter when Kent gets home.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Locker clean out is always hard, no matter what, whether it’s early because they missed the playoffs or later because they got knocked out. Even the two times that they’ve won the Cup, it’s still hard because they know that not everyone’s coming back next year. Some of the guys will get traded in the offseason, a few are going UFA and probably won’t resign.

Kent’s got a good team, and it’s always hard to say goodbye.

He has lunch with Jeff and Troy afterward, because they’re his As and of anyone they’ll all probably be Aces until they retire.

“How’s your boy?” Jeff asks casually while Kent is still poring over the menu, trying to decide between a hamburger and something healthier but potentially less delicious.

“He’s not my boy,” Kent says, mentally rolling his eyes at the unsubtle looks Troy is throwing at Jeff.

Troy is a good bro who’s been pretty chill about the whole Jack situation, for the most part. He’s probably most of the reason that nobody’s really bothered him about it, even if objectively it’s kind of weird that Jack is spending his recovery time hiding out at Kent’s house.

Jeff snorts. “Okay, how’s Jack?”

Kent shrugs. “He’s okay, I think, the knee seems to be healing up.”

“Hmm,” is all Jeff says in response, before they’re interrupted by the arrival of their waitress.

Kent orders a hamburger and is saved from having to say anything more by Troy who brings up his summer plans after the waitress leaves. Jeff drops it for the time being, and even though Kent knows he’s probably going to have to talk to him about it at some point, it’s a relief.

The hamburger is fucking delicious, anyway.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent spends the better part of a week catching up on sleep and Netflix, interspersed with a few last media things as the Aces wind up the season. It always sucks, being done, but there’s a tiny part of him that’s relieved to be done with grind of playoffs.

Jack is a quiet presence for the most part, though he’s mostly taken over making meals since Kent can’t be bothered to do anything more rigorous than order takeout and he actually seems to enjoy cooking.

“Bittle taught me,” he says with a shrug when Kent asks over plates of pasta with homemade meat and tomato sauce. “Figured I should learn how so I wouldn’t starve or have to order in all the time.”

The sauce is good, thick and rich and well-seasoned, but it’s tasteless, suddenly.

“That’s great,” Kent says, pushing the pieces of pasta around his plate.

Jack gives him an odd look but seems to mentally shrug and leave him to it. They’re sitting on the couch again, some home renovation show playing on the TV, and it’s easy enough to settle back into watching it instead of trying to make conversation.

He makes himself finish the pasta because it is pretty good, regardless, but the food sits like a leaden weight in his stomach.

After they’re finished, Kent grabs their empty plates and escapes to the kitchen to clean up because he figures it’s only fair if Jack is willing to cook. He should be upset, maybe, at the reminder that Jack belongs to someone else, but he doesn’t have the energy for being anything more than tired. 

Jack’s going to be leaving at some point, anyway, it’s always just been a question of when.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The Aces all slowly filter off to their respective summer plans, Jack keeps baking, Kent eats half his weight in baked goods, and the Aeros win the Stanley Cup.

Troy sends him selfies of himself on the beach making a peace sign with the caption _fuck the aeros_. Kent sends a selfie back of himself and Kit in bed, Kent giving a thumbs up and Kit uncaring. 

Jack is off going to physical therapy and running errands, so he’s been lounging in bed and messing around on the internet. 

 _u still in LV???_ Troy responds. 

 _yeah,_ Kent sends back. _probably going home next wk._

He doesn’t actually have any plans yet, even though he knows he probably should, but he knows that as soon as he heads home Jack is probably going to leave too, and it’ll be back to normal. They’re something almost like friends now and Kent would give up his whole summer if it meant keeping this. 

 _ok,_ Troy sends back.

Kent sends an emoji heart back, gets one in reply. He hears the sound of the door opening.

“Kenny?” Jack calls from the entryway, and there’s the jangle of keys being dropped on the entry way table. “I brought lunch.”

“Coming,” Kent calls back, and heaves himself up off the bed.

It’d be so easy to just pretend that he could keep this.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Jack waylays him after dinner a few nights later while Kent’s washing dishes.

“Do you have plans for the summer?” he asks, drying the finished dishes and putting them away.

Kent focuses on scrubbing a pan, tries to keep his voice casual. “Hadn’t planned anything yet.”

“You don’t have to stay here for me, you know.”

Kent shrugs and rinses the pan. “I like being here.”

He sets the last pan in the drainer and drains the sink, braces himself on the counter. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jack drying the last pan and then putting it away.

Jack passes him the towel like he always does and Kent dries his hands before hanging it up.

He turns around and faces Jack, who looks more serious than usual, and that’s…not good.

“You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to,” Kent says.

“I know,” Jack says. He scuffs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly frustrated. “Can we sit down?”

Kent leads the way to the kitchen table, pulls a chair and drops into it, and Jack does the same.

“I need to go home,” Jack says, not looking at Kent. “But I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” He feels like he’s sinking, slowly.

 “I don’t know if I’m playing this fall,” Jack says softly, and there’s a look on his face that Kent can’t quite decipher.

“What do you mean, you don’t know.” He’s not, it’s just, it doesn’t make _sense_.

Jack still isn’t looking at him, hands fidgeting in his lap. “This isn’t the first time I’ve fucked up my knee, and even if it gets better now there’s always going to be the risk that I fuck it up again for good.”

“So what,” Kent says sharply, “you’re quitting?”

Jack huffs out a breath. “I’m not quitting, it’s just…when I went to Samwell, I thought it’d be a chance to get back into hockey, but I found people that helped me realize that it wasn’t the only thing that was important.”

 _Bittle,_ Kent thinks, and the sinking feeling turns into lurch like he’s in free fall.

Jack continues. “Hockey’s important, but it wasn’t going to be forever.”

He looks up and smiles weakly at Kent, and he looks like everything Kent ever wanted.

“I was angry, you know, when I came here,” he says. “They told me when I had surgery that it wouldn’t be the same, that I’d still be able to play but it would give me trouble and if I got hit wrong that would be it for good.”

“So you could still play,” Kent says.

“I could,” he acknowledges. “But I have to decide if it’s worth it. Anyway, I need to go home for a while, get that sorted out.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kent says, feeling numb.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

There’s a difference between knowing someone’s going to leave and watching them leave, and Kent knows he’s probably clinging too much but he can’t help it.

Jack gets a flight for the day after next and keeps texting and grinning at his phone. He’s going to Providence first, then Montreal, then probably back to Providence for the rest of the summer. Kent hates how happy he looks to be leaving.

Jack packs up everything he’d brought and accumulated while he was there, and it’s weird to see everything packed up into a few suitcases.

Time passes too quickly and before he knows it he’s dropping Jack off at the airport.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Jack says, engulfing Kent in a hug before he joins the line to go through security. Kent’s clinging too tightly but he can’t make himself stop.

“Glad I could,” he says, and lets go.

“See you,” Jack says, and leaves.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Jack wasn’t ever that noisy, but the house is too quiet when Kent gets back. The pull of their bond slowly intensifies over the course of the day until it settles into the steady tug that Kent’s been used to. It’s weird, how much he’s been used to feeling Jack around.

Kit keeps meowing at the door of the guest bedroom Jack slept in and giving Kent betrayed looks like she knows it’s his fault that Jack is gone.

He lasts two days before he caves and buys a plane ticket and spends the day packing in a haze. He keeps finding things that Jack left behind, throws them into the room Jack stayed in and refuses to think about it.

He cleans out the refrigerator before he leaves, throws out anything that’ll spoil before he gets back. There’s a few cookies left from the last batch Jack made before he left, and Kent throws them in the freezer instead of dealing with them.

Kit protests getting in the cat carrier, as usual, but he gets her in eventually, locks up the house, and heads to the airport to go home.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

_Falconers Captain Jack Zimmermann Announces Retirement_

July 30 - Falconers Captain Jack Zimmermann, 31, announced his retirement at a press conference today after six seasons in the NHL.

“It was a hard decision to make,” said Zimmermann. “But it’s the right decision to make for the long term. I’ve had a great time with the Falconers and I’m grateful for having the opportunity to do what we did.”

GM Georgia Martin had nothing but praise for Zimmermann, who captained the Falconers during their Stanley Cup win in 2018. “We’re going to miss him,” said Martin. “He’s been a great guy on and off the ice and he won’t be easily replaced.”

Zimmermann had 546 points in 431 career games with the Falconers. He previously played with Samwell University.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent spends the summer training at home, and it’s easy to get back into the routine of it. He lets his mom fuss over him, spends time with his siblings, and pretends that everything is fine.

Jack texts him sporadically, but the time between texts gets longer and longer as the summer progresses.

The pull in his chest aches, but Kent’s fine.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent moves back to Vegas a week before training camp and things almost feel normal again. He spends time getting settled in, showing the new guys around, and catching up with the older guys, and the familiarity is comforting. Some of the guys may be different but this part is always the same.

Training camp is busy but fun, less stressful since he hasn’t had to worry about potentially getting sent down since he was a rookie.

It’s exhausting, but the good kind of exhausting that leaves him going to bed early and sleeping deeply.

“Heard Zimmermann retired,” Jeff says quietly in the locker room halfway through the week. Kent busies himself untying his skates, avoiding Jeff’s knowing look. The locker room is noisy enough that it’s unlikely that anyone else heard, but he still looks around just in case. Nobody seems to be paying attention to them, though, so he relaxes.

“Yeah,” Kent says.

“You okay?” Jeff asks, too knowing.

Kent shrugs. “Okay enough.”

Jeff claps a hand on his shoulder, and the weight of it is comforting.

“We’ve got your back, bud,” he says.

“Thanks,” Kent says, suddenly fighting back the urge to cry.

Jeff squeezes his shoulder once before getting up and heading off and Kent has to take a moment before he can finish getting dressed.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Training camp ends and preseason starts and it’s easy to get into the rhythm of things. He keeps busy for the most part and it’s not that difficult because there’s always enough to do.

The Aces are doing well, for the most part, gelling together pretty well and getting more solid the more games they play together. The press makes noises about their chances for doing well this year and Kent doesn’t want to hope too much but he’s got a good feeling about this year.

Everything else is fucked up, but he’s got hockey.

He invites everyone over for team bonding, makes sure the rookies are settling in. The house is too quiet otherwise, and Kit misses being around someone who isn’t Kent.

He goes out sometimes with the team, whenever he’s needed, but it’s exhausting and he always ends up bowing out early. He sleeps a lot, eats reheated meals from his meal service, and watches TV with Kit.

He doesn’t hear from Jack at all and ignores the pull of the bond and he’s fine, really.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

A month and a half into actual start of the season, Kent comes home from a roadie to find Jack fucking Zimmermann on his couch. The only warning he gets is the pull in his chest suddenly settling into deep contentment, and he wants to cry.

“Hey Kenny,” Jack says, and he looks good, dressed casually in a Samwell t-shirt and jeans. He jumps up and is in Kent’s space before he can respond, but stops short of touching him.

“Why the fuck are you here?” Kent asks tiredly, dropping his bag in the middle of the floor.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Kent pushes past him and drops on the couch, and Jack follows, looking a little lost.

“You tell me, Zimms, I don’t fucking know,” Kent says, slumping over to rest his head in his hands.

“You’re my soul mate,” Jack says helplessly.

“And?”

Jack shrugs. “So I came back. I can get my own place, but I want to try again.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I want to try dating you,” Jack says in a rush. “I know it’s not been good between us but I think we could be good and I want to try. I just, when I was resting after surgery I talked with my dad about what it would mean if I couldn’t play and he asked if there was anything I regretted not doing, and all I could think was that I’d fucked things up with you.”

Kent feels like he’s been checked, like that dizzy split second between being hit and hitting the ground.

“What about your boyfriend,” he chokes out.

“What boyfriend?” Jack asks, and Kent starts laughing, maybe a little bit hysterically.

“Eric Bittle? The guy you’ve been all over for years?”

“We broke up years ago,” Jack says, looking dumbfounded. “I thought you knew.”

Kent starts crying then, and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t feeling so wrung out.

“I’m sorry,” Jack says, looking stricken. “I thought Maman told you, I didn’t know.”

Kent laughs, wetly. “Of course you fucking didn’t.”

Jack reaches out like he’s going to touch Kent, then pulls his hand back.

A year ago Kent would’ve given anything to have Jack touching him, but now he’s just tired.

“I can’t deal with this tonight,” he says. “You can stay as long as you need, but I need to think about it.”

Jack nods. “Okay,” he says, and he looks disappointed but that’s more than Kent can handle tonight.

He levers himself off the couch, makes himself pick up his bag, but turns back to Jack before he can overthink it.

“It’s good to see you though, Zimms, I missed you.”

Jack smiles, small and bright. “I missed you too, Kenny.”

Kent takes the image of Jack’s smile with him to bed, lets it warm him like the soft pulse of home and contentment in his chest.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

It’s easier than Kent would’ve thought for them to slip back into the routine they had going last season, even if there’s a little bit of newly found awkwardness after Jack’s confession.

Kent comes home from practice a few days later to find Jack pulling a tray of muffins out of the oven, and they smell so good he’s tempted to run off with them.

He tells Jack as much and Jack laughs, easy, small lines crinkling around the edges of his eyes that he didn’t have when they were young and stupid and broke each other’s hearts without trying.

“Where did you learn how to bake, anyway?” Kent asks, perched on the edge of the counter and tearing into a warm muffin. They’re blueberry streusel, according to Jack.

“Bitty taught me,” Jack says with a shrug, shoulders hunched awkwardly.

“You’re still friends?” Kent asks as a peace offering, and Jack relaxes.

“He’s one of my best friends,” Jack says with a fond smile. “He runs a bakery in Providence, now, so he’s pretty busy, but we talk sometimes and he still sends me recipes he thinks I’ll like.”

Kent can’t help but ask. “Why’d you two break up?”

Jack shrugs. “We liked each other a lot, but it kind of ended up wearing off after a while and we realized we’d be better off as just friends. Then Bittle met his soul mate, and, well,” he shrugs again.

“Huh,” Kent says, feeling a weird sort of relief. He takes a bite of his muffin, savors the sweetness and blueberry-ness of it.

“I like baking,” Jack says with a small smile. “Bittle always used to say that it was a way of taking care of people he cared about, and I get that now.”

Kent feels warm as he finishes his muffin, and it’s not what he would’ve ever expected but it’s nice in a way they’ve never been with each other.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent gets a hat trick in their next game at home against the Aeros and it feels like vindication. It doesn’t hurt that they wipe the ground with them and end up with a 5-0 shutout. Everyone’s cheerful in the locker room afterward, half the team planning on going out.

Jeff is acting shifty and Kent would be suspicious but he’s flying on the win and the hat trick, and he honestly doesn’t care as long as it’s not a mess he has to clean up.

He stops short, though, when he goes to leave the locker room and finds Jack waiting outside of it, wearing an Aces jersey, and looking better in it than he has any right to.

Jack smiles shyly, and ducks his head, and then Jeff is pushing him into the hallway and cackling.

“Can’t keep your boy waiting, Parse.”

“Thanks Dan,” Jack says, shaking Jeff’s hand.

“No problem,” Jeff says, confirming Kent’s suspicions. “Don’t stay out too late, kids!” He disappears down the hallway and Kent is left with Jack.

“Ugh,” Kent says with feeling, and Jack laughs.

“Don’t be too hard on him, eh? He got me down here.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Kent says. “You watched the game?”

Jack smiles. “Had to come see you at some point, that second goal was beautiful.”

“Thanks, I try.”

The rest of the team filters out then in a noisy clump, and Kent gets a bunch of congratulatory fist bumps from the guys.

“You coming out with us?” Jacobs asks, bouncing on his toes.

Kent catches Troy’s eye and Troy shrugs, the usual symbol for _we’ve got this if you want to leave_.

“We might be going home, actually, but maybe next time?”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Jacobs says solemnly, and leads the rookie pack off with a chorus of farewells.

“Thanks, bro,” Kent says to Troy. Troy pulls him into a bro hug and pats him on the shoulder.

“Take care of your boy,” Troy says, and nods to them both before heading off.

Jack is still smiling when Kent turns back to him, small and fond, and fuck, Kent loves him so much. He bumps him, gently, with his foot.

“Let’s go home,” he says.

“Okay,” Jack says.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

Kent kisses Jack that night for the first time in a long time, and it feels like coming home.

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

They fly both of their families in for Christmas because Kent’s only got a few days off between games and it makes more sense than trying to fly out to New York or Montreal and getting stuck with holiday delays.

The first thing Alicia does when they get back to the house is to sweep Kent up into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, and Kent can’t help but tear up. He wipes his eyes discreetly when she lets go, and she smiles like she understands.

Jack and Bob are talking in rapid-fire French that Kent can barely understand and Kit is twining around their feet and meowing because she wants attention, and it’s perfect.

Kent’s parents fly in the next day, and the house is a bustle of activity, warm with chatter and the smells of cooking and baking.

Christmas eve is wonderful, and Jack shows Kent a picture he’d gotten of Bittle with his arm around a tall dark-haired man that Kent recognized from the Falconers, showing off a ring.

Jack tells him the story but Kent doesn’t really listen, caught by the idea, and thinks _maybe._

Not yet, but maybe. 

          

 

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

 

 

The season starts up again and it’s busy, but it’s so much better when he knows that Jack’s waiting for him at home.

It’s not what he would’ve ever expected, years ago when he was younger and hurting and missing Jack like a limb, but it’s so much better.

Jack is doing well too, baking and taking pictures of everything and looking content in a way Kent has never seen him be, soft and relaxed a way that he never was with hockey.

Jack moves into his bedroom, eventually, and they still take it slowly but it’s so much better than what they used to be. One of the best things in his life now is seeing Jack in the morning, sleepy and rumpled and soft in his bed, and knowing that this is something he gets to keep.

The Aces keep winning and winning and a part of Kent starts thinking _this could be our year._

Kent grows an awful playoff beard and Jack laughs at him, but they keep winning.

When Kent lifts the Stanley Cup, finally, feeling simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated, he looks up to where Jack’s cheering in the crowd with Bob and Alicia and his parents, and it’s the best feeling.

It’s even better though, later, when he posts a picture that ends up breaking the internet of him and Jack kissing over the cup, with the caption _I put a ring on it_.

Jack laughs at him for that, but he’s got Kent’s ring on his finger and their bond is warm and content in his chest and Kent can’t say he minds.

**Author's Note:**

> Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://omgcpheartbreakfest.tumblr.com/) on the omgcpheartbreakfest tumblr page!


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